


Tough Crowd

by idiotbrothers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Sam, Fluff, M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2523203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiotbrothers/pseuds/idiotbrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>themegalosaurus requested: "Wincest fluff based on Dean’s line in the benders about Sam when he gets drunk (‘two beers and he’s singing karaoke’)”. I eagerly complied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tough Crowd

**Author's Note:**

  * For [themegalosaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themegalosaurus/gifts).



"I feel good, Dean. I feel  _so_  good. This is like, amazing—haven’t felt  _this_  good in months.” Sam had a sloppy grin plastered across his face, and he was getting grabby, just like he always did when he’d had more than two beers. Dean had to keep knocking his hands away before they got too close to his crotch, because no thanks, Dean was not up for engaging in drunken PDA in front of the bar’s resident rednecks, who could probably get them arrested just for sitting too close.

Though right now, Sam was practically halfway in Dean’s lap, and Dean didn’t particularly feel up to moving him, so maybe he wasn’t quite  _that_  opposed to the PDA thing. “Yeah, I know, Sam. You’ve been telling me for the past hour.” But he said it with a smile, because he couldn’t remember when he’d last seen Sam this loose and carefree, dimples popping and cheeks red and affectionate glimmer to his eyes.

“I like, fuckin’. I wanna  _sing_  or something. Share it with the world, or whatever.” Dean laughed at the notion—god forbid Sam share his terrible singing voice with the poor hillbilly patrons. Come to think of it, on some level many of them would probably deserve such punishment. 

"Share  _what_  with the world?” Sam didn’t answer, patting Dean’s face clumsily instead and whispering conspiratorially, “Love you, man. Like, a whole lot.” The two older guys adjacent to them were seriously giving them the stink eye now. Dean mentally flipped them off. “Alright, Sam. I know. Geez, you’re drunk.”

"I am not! Only had like—like…not that much. That’s for sure." Dean messed up Sam’s hair, beaming at him indulgently. "I know. Could never hold your liquor, you baby." Sam blushed, squirming a little in his seat, and Dean figured that probably had something to do with the way his voice had inadvertently gotten lower and huskier as he spoke, like he was planning on bending Sam over their table right this second. Great, now  _he_ was raring to go.

“Hey,” he said to Sam, tracing one warm finger over the inseam of his jeans. “Hey,” Sam answered, flushing red all the way up to his ears. He was so fucking  _cute_ , it was ridiculous. “You’re adorable, you know that?” So maybe Dean had downed a couple more drinks than usual, too.

“ _Dean_ ,” Sam hissed, ducking his head and covering his mouth with his palm, but Dean could see the edges of his grin anyway. Sliding his hand up to rest on the back of Sam’s neck, Dean suddenly noticed that the guy who’d been all but caterwauling his way through one song too many had finally been booed offstage. 

“You wanna sing karaoke for us, Sammy? Charm everyone here with your enchanting voice?” It was clearly a joke, but Sam apparently took it to heart, his face lighting up with glee. “Good idea!” He scrambled out of his seat and started making his way onstage, leaving Dean blinking bewilderedly after him and calling, “Uh, no. Bad idea, Sam. Sam, you can’t—you can’t sing!”

But Sam already had the mic in his hand, was squinting intently as he picked a song on the machine. Dean groaned preemptively, burying his face in his hands just as Sam tapped the microphone, cleared his throat. “Attention, everybody! This song goes out to my brother,” here Sam paused and helpfully pointed Dean out to the jeering audience, and holy  _shit_  was Dean gonna kill him when he got back to their table, " ‘cause I love him, and he’s got a nice cock.” 

"Holy  _shit_ ,” Dean said, shrinking down in his seat and wishing he could melt right through it. The taunts from the audience had stopped abruptly at Sam’s last sentence, but they picked up again after a beat, louder and with more anger behind them. Sam, blissfully oblivious, ignored them. The song he’d selected had kicked in, and Dean wasn’t focusing on the beat because he was sort of preoccupied with doing his best impression of a chair, but he instantly recognized the song when Sam started singing, and his mortification kicked up about ten notches. 

“ _You are…my fiiire. The one…desiiire_.”

"Sam, I swear to god, when we get outta here—" Dean muttered to himself, face hot as the people sitting around him glared like he was a personal affront to them. " _Believe…when I say, I want it that way_.” Sam was really getting into it, sweeping hand gestures and eyes fluttering shut, and it would’ve been hilarious if there wasn’t a good chance that the audience would turn into a mob any second now and slit their throats with beer bottle shards.  

" _But we…are two worlds apart. Can’t reach to your heart…when you say, that I want it that way_.” 

Sam didn’t even get to sing the chorus before they were booted out of the bar, Dean ignoring Sam’s protests and tugging him rapidly along over the icy sidewalk lest he open his big mouth again and actually get them jumped. Needless to say, Dean put a safe distance between them and the bar before he relaxed enough to loosen his grip on Sam’s arm. “What the fuck were you thinking?” Dean sputtered, breath billowing out, but he was laughing incredulously at the same time, the ridiculousness of the situation striking him all at once. “Don’t laugh, Dean,” Sam frowned, swaying a little and reaching out to grip Dean’s jacket for support. “Cut me off just when it was gettin’ good.” 

"You’re killing me. Can’t say I’m too surprised about your choice of song, though."

Sam brightened. "Yeah! Fits us, doesn’t it?"

"I was talking about your shit taste in music, dude," Dean returned cheerfully, feeling gratified when Sam looked comically hurt. "But it  _does_ , Dean, admit it! That stuff ‘bout heartache and, like, falling apart…” 

"Is that how you see us? Ouch." Dean was only half kidding, concern budding quietly in his chest.

"Aw, that’s not what I meant," Sam reassured him quickly, grabbing his face and planting a small kiss on his mouth. "I was thinkin’ about how we  _used_  to be, before we started, um, y’know. And that one part about  _no matter the distance_ , I just…it makes me think of you.” 

Dean was afraid his expression might be giving away how impossibly fucking fond he was feeling right now, so he cuffed Sam lightly on the side of the head and said, “C’mon, dumbass, we should be getting back. Gotta wake up bright and early tomorrow, and you’re gonna have one hell of a hangover.” 

" ‘Kay," Sam chirped, sticking to Dean’s side as they headed for the car and sighing contentedly when Dean twined their fingers together.

**Author's Note:**

> The song Sam sings is "I Want it That Way" by the Backstreet Boys. You can listen to it here: http://youtu.be/4fndeDfaWCg


End file.
